Butte semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1886-1890, 1887-02-26

ton to smile.
But the bad half hour in my week was OF
Saturday afternoons when I went alone Il
him, and sat by his side while he spread ou]
that weeks history paper of mine befor'
him, and commented on its faults ant
| required an explanation of its ambigui
ties, and waited patiently with mos
| courteous attention for. my answers
Now and then, glancing up at him quickly,
caught a CLEAN of laughter deep down in hi
and grave and weighty.
It was Saturday afternoon IN the middle o.
the term. I sat beside hira Al the table, lis
tening meekly to his criticisms. >
"You miss the point here, Miss Chrystal."
ayes, Mr.. Tudor"
"And here you speak of impeachment a
though it were procedure by BILL"
ayes, Mr.. Tudor"
"That is a somewhat grave mistake"
I could not acquiesce again. And the
m~onosyllabic Eyes" was the only form OF an
swer that came to me.
"And here, I think, you were required t.
discuss the constitutional importance Of thest
events"
ayes, Mr.. Tudor"
"You have not done 80, Miss Chrystal."
"No-I am afraid-I am afraid not"
"You mistook the question, possibly!"
He was looking gravely at me, waiting. Ny
spoken answer, like my written answer, wa,
not very very much to the point. l spoke
desperately.
What is the good of it ALI" I said. "What
does it matter about the judicial system, and
who has the control of taxations What doe.
it matter about the parliament, and the
courts, and all the dull old laws? One cant
really care for the constitution"
I had time, while he sat surveying me, tc
feel ashamed Of my babyish, passionate
speech.
"What made you think Of devoting your
self to the study of constitutional history?" he
said, with gentle surprise. His g%entlenes:
seemed like satire. Ny eyes, in spite Of my
self, suddenly filed with tears. Suddenly
he looked away from me. He asked me nc
more questions. For the next five minutes he
talked rapidly. without a pause. When ]
resolutely blinked back my tears and glanced
at him, he was diligently disfguring my
history paper with crooked circles, and biz
face was less brown than ruddy.
After that day his eyes ceased to twinkle
when he looked at me; he passed me over IL
class and put the puzzling questions to Nell
and Claudia, and was almost gentle when
went alone to him. He gave up asking me to
expound this theory and that argument
which he had failed to follow; and. when he
was forced to condemn my work, he worded
his blame mildly and looked away as he
spoke.
"He has forgiven you, Cts" said the girls
"He completely ignores you now-for which
you are thankful, Cts, are you notp
every thankful" I said. I said it impress
sively, for I needed to convince myself a.
well as the girls.
I was inconsistent, for I began to wish that
he would find me amusing again, and to feel
pangs Of disappointment in class when he
pissed me over, and to desire with quite un'
reasonable eagerness, that he should look at
me again, even if his eyes should have
laughter in their depths.
But every week the laughter seemed further
away. And if he was grave In class, he wa
graver still on Saturday. He gazed steadily
at my paper as he discussed it, and discussed
it as though in a dream. He no longer
thought me fippant, and conceited, and
tried to cure me. He nc longer thought OF
me at all
It was only at the end Of the term that he
set aside his p~erfunctory tutor manner.
."Are you going home, Miss Chrystal| he
asked me he%sitatingly.
"Yes. Not at once though. For a week OF
two I am going to stay with Claudia-Mi
Harrison, I mean. Then she will come home
with me-"
II may be spending my holidays near you.
Perhaps-possibly-we may meet each other"
"Oh yes, very possibly" I said. And sud
denly / felt light hearted at the thought Of
holidays. There was a little pause, and
rose and held out my hand
ut is somewhere in Devonshire, is it notr
he said.
"WhatT'
"Your home"
Eyes. Axetown East. Quite a little place
on the coast. Have you friends there, Mr..
Tudor?"
"No," he said, doubtfully. II believe-1
believe the fishing is good~ And it did not
strike me as strange that he should be going
to a place in which he had no friends, and Of
which he did not know the name and county.
But I did not tell the girls what he had told
me. It was only at the end Of my visit tc
Claudia that 1 broke the news to her. l broke
it casually.
HE came for the fshing,"I said. "And
father and the boys seem-accidently-te
have come across him."
"Never mind, said Claudia.
"No, it does not matter" I said, resignedly.
But Claudia was sympathetic next day
when we arrived at Axetown East. In q
short fortnight Mr.. Tudor had made great
strides toward friendship with all at home
He had found favor with father and the
boys; his hotel was comfortless and he de
serted it frequently. He anne and went al
all hours, laughed and smoked with the boys
and talked sensibly like an old friend with
father. He was more bronzed than ever; fol
a fortnight he had been fishing and rowing
and walking with energy. He laughed as ]
had sometimes suspected he could laugh; he
had left his tutor n behind him with
cap and gown. Suddenly now, at the end Of
a fortnight, he had grown tired of fishing
and of lonely boating and walking. He
haunted our house; he seemed to be alwaya
where I was. Claudia was sympathetic
And, somehow, I felt traitorous when I re-
ceived her sympathy.
It was a still, warm summer evening a day
or two after u arrival. We were in the
drawing room down stairs, and the French
windows were open wide. Father was show.
ing Mr.. Tudor some views of places abroad
where he had been stationed at different
times. Suddenly, m the still air. cam
voice from the garden. Claudia was coming
up the path with my brother George.
"And that is the story" she said
ut doesn't seem quite q modest thing
to say a man bushes when you speak to him
Poor Cisi she has newer been happy IN hi